


A Tenuous Thread

by mresundance



Series: Standalone Trans Fics [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, FTM Will, Fingerfucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Penetration, Trans Male Character, Trans Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will looks at Hannibal and feels their past and their future in this present moment. It's a tenuous thread. </p><p>A timestamp for 3x07, Digestivo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tenuous Thread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AGlassRoseNeverFades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGlassRoseNeverFades/gifts).



> Previously titled "Between Their Past and Their Future".

He feels everything: the scalpel's edge as it dances over his skin; Hannibal's hands, hot and slippery with blood; the freezing night air slapping his face; the scalding coarseness of Hannibal's skin as he cradles him in the bathtub; the little circles Hannibal rubs into his scalp; the softness of his own clothes, his own bed, enveloping him.

The immobilizing agent is finally beginning to wear off now. Will's arms and legs are rejointing themselves. He can lift his head and roll onto either side. Everything still feels slow, however, and he's not able to resist when Hannibal presses his hand into his waist, and tells him to lie still.

He undoes Will's pants and pulls his underwear down. The needle is a quick silver jab in the right of Will's ass. Though Will grunts and thrashes weakly, Hannibal holds him until he's finished the injection.

 _"Hannibal_ \--"

"It's just your testosterone, Will."

Hannibal rubs that spot with a cotton ball and, despite everything, the touch does make Will shudder.

"Did you _smell_ that I was overdue for a shot?" he grumbles.

"Yes," Hannibal answers after a pause.

"Of course you did."

Hannibal pulls his underwear and pants back up, almost reverently, and Will rolls onto his back. In the gray morning light, thin and diffuse, all the sharp, hard edges from the past few weeks have been rubbed off. It's almost as though none of it happened: the long voyage to Europe, the journey to Lithuania, and then the trek to Italy. The bright blade buzzing as it bit into his head and his blood peppered the walls and furniture.

Will looks at Hannibal and feels their past and their future in this present moment. It's a tenuous thread.

"Fuck me," Will says.

Hannibal looks genuinely surprised.

Will wants to feel something that isn't pain, for one thing. For another he wants to draw Hannibal close as he wasn't able to in Florence. And for another he wants to keep this thread from snapping. If they're joined now, maybe they still will be in the future, when the sun rises, and the FBI surely comes.

Will fumbles out of his pants and Hannibal watches him for a moment before helping. Will wants this to be quick -- bloody and angry -- but Hannibal takes his time. He kisses Will's stomach and his scar, before pulling his pants and underwear off. He stops to kiss Will's chest each time he undoes a button on his shirt.

"Hannibal," Will objects, but Hannibal only slides down between his thighs.

Still, there's no urgency as he uses his fingers to pull the folds of skin back, exposing Will's cock. None as he licks the tip and takes Will into his mouth.

It's been months since Will's had sex, and the last person he had sex with was Hannibal. Will doesn't rightly remember when that was either. Was it after their last supper? It doesn't matter. He's hard already, hard enough that it hurts as Hannibal sucks and licks him, and he's already so wet that he can feel the sheets sticking to him. And when Hannibal slides a finger into his front hole, Will moans and bucks -- coming so fervidly that everything turns red and orange for a moment.  

Will tries to catch his breath, but Hannibal keeps sucking. Will feels every swipe of Hannibal's tongue, the press of his lips, every exhale. Hannibal's finger, still inside, making slow circles against his walls, then rubbing that knot of nerves which makes Will quiver. A second finger slides in, and Hannibal scissors Will open, pressing tongue between fingers.

He wants to tell Hannibal to stop. He's too sensitive; it's too much after everything. He wants to tell him to never stop. He can't feel enough; it's not enough after everything.  He loathes it when Hannibal withdraws to take his sweater and shirt off, and whines when he hears Hannibal unzip.

Hannibal leans over him, blocking out the light. He swathes Will in his warmth and darkness as they kiss. Will tastes himself there.

And then the tip of Hannibal's cock against his entrance, a bright, hot nudge. Will opens his thighs wider, and rolls his hips, but Hannibal pulls back. He teases Will's entrance with his cock, mixing Will's cum with his precum, spreading both over Will's entrance, until Will groans frustration.

Even so, Hannibal pushes in slowly, pressing his head in and then pulling back. Inching himself further into Will each time, then pulling out.

Will hasn't done much except stroke himself off since the last time they were together; so Hannibal's thick shaft feels even thicker -- heavy in a way he doesn't remember -- and it burns, stretching him wide, then leaving him feeling hollow and wanting.

"Dammit, Hannibal," Will pants.

Hannibal sinks all the way in. He stays there, shifting his hips minutely. Will makes a noise in the back of his throat, and clenches around Hannibal. The sudden heat, the tightness, and the nearness between them -- it's so good -- too good -- Will can already feel his second orgasm building as Hannibal begins to fuck him in earnest. Will clutches Hannibal's shoulders, and Will can't hear anything but Hannibal's grunts of pleasure, his own desperate little gasps, and the sound of their bodies snapping together.

As his second orgasm rolls over him, and he grips Hannibal tightly inside and out, Will cries: " _Please_."

Though for what, he's not sure. Hannibal sighs as he finishes. His cock softens inside Will while they lay panting and shaking.

Will knows it then, just like he had when he'd set sail, just like he had when he was in Lithuania, just like he had when he saw Hannibal sitting before _La Primavera_.

The thread between their past and their future was already snapped some time ago.

This moment between them, now, cannot unbreak it, either.

There's nothing to be done for it.

Will nudges Hannibal and Hannibal pulls out, gently. Will goes to the bathroom. He spends a long time there, thinking, before cleaning himself up. When he comes back out the bed is remade with fresh sheets, clean clothes have been laid for him, and Hannibal is outside, his tall dark shadow crossing the porch.

Will puts on the fresh clothes and lies down. He waits. He rehearses what he will have to say when Hannibal returns.

  

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: Will Graham is pretty much the same in all particulars (facial hair, voice, etc) except for a few odds and ends.


End file.
